


Sticky Situation

by hanktalkin



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: F/M, M/M, Mistletoe, One-Sided Attraction, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Secret Santa, Smissmas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 19:45:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9008536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanktalkin/pseuds/hanktalkin
Summary: my secret santa for astral-glass!Prompt: RED Scout tapes a mistletoe to his forehead and tries to get Miss. P to the base. Everyone is trying to avoid him to escape the tradition. Unless someone wouldn’t mind a kiss?





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [astral-glass](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=astral-glass).



“You sure you don’t have anythin’ stronger than this crap?” Scout asked the workshop as he tossed another roll of electrical tape over his shoulder.

Engie might have responded more affably had said roll of tape not flown over his work and smacked in the front of the helmet.

“If you haven’t found it by now, you ain’t going to get any closer by turning my workshop upside-down,” he grumbled.

“ _Our_ workshop,” the Demoman corrected from the other side of the room. “Though I dunnae appreciate havin’ broken pliers thrown at me anymore than you do.”

“Hmmrr hudda,” Pyro agreed. The little corner they like to watch from was full of discarded wire coils, all annoyingly nonflammable.

Scout ignored all three of them, and yanked out some fresh duct tape from the bottom of the spare toolbox. Finally! Not they were getting somewhere.

“Any chance you’ll explain _why_ you wanted to look through my toolboxes if you’re just going to trash ‘em?” The Engineer continued to complain. Screw him, Scout didn’t need to explain shit. They’d see in a second.

The youngest mercenary grabbed the scissors he’d found earlier and got to work. Carefully, he sliced the duct tape into some good-sized pieces, setting them aside. Then, the main event. He pulled the slightly wrinkled plant from his pocket, and stuck it to his head.

“Tada!” Scout said, turning around and displaying his master plan. “Pretty festive, right?”

A branch of mistletoe was plastered to his forehead, any actual appeal of the look diminished by its ugly silver stripes. His audience gave him several seconds of silence before Demo voiced what they were all thinking.

“And what the bloody hell are you supposed tae be?”

Scout rolled his eyes. “Uh, _duh_ I’m lookin’ for a kiss numbnuts. Ain’t you ever seen mistletoe before?”

Engie scoffed. “Well if you’re looking for a kiss you can look somewhere else. This workshop’s closed for any holiday pecking.”

“I’m not lookin’ to kiss _you_ , asshole,” Scout snapped. He then puffed out his chest proudly. “Miss Paulin’ is comin’ by at two a’ clock.”

“How’d you manage that?” Demo asked suspiciously. “You dinnae press that briefcase alarm again, did you?”

“No, Jesus!” Scout had learned his lesson from last time, and now only pulled the alarm when he was sure there was a real threat to the base. Or he threw his baseball against it by accident. “She’s comin’ here because I asked her. It’s a date.” If his self-satisfied grin were any wider it would have split his face in two.

Engie and Demo shared a look of _sure it is_ before going back to work, and Pyro just shook their head.

“Hey, hey, no guys it’s true!” He’d worked hard to schedule this with Miss Pauling. He tried coming along for her weird assistant duties, but holding dismembered bodies while she dug the hole never seemed to strike right mood. This was the first time since the bread incident that they’d actually get to hang out for real. “She’s got a half-day today, just has to go to some meetin’ the Admin set up.”

The other mercenaries continued to ignore him.

“Screw you guys!” Scout was wrinkling his forehead so hard the corners of the duct tape had already started to peel. “It’s not my fault you guys don’t know how to spend Smissmas. You’re just sittin’ around with your thumbs up your asses surrounded by hunks of junk.” To illustrate his point, Scout knocked over the toolbox he’d been looking through.

As the box fell to the ground with a clatter, Engie’s eyes narrowed behind black goggles. It was one thing to bother him during his prep time, but it was another to insult his work, and cause a mess to boot. He stood up from his table, fists clenched.

“Now listen here Scout-”

“-That’s real smooth o’ you tae land a date with Miss P.,” Demo cut in.

Engie looked at him in surprise, but Demo just gave him a wink.

“Huh?” Scout was surprised too, but recovered quickly. “I mean yeah! Yeah, a’ course it was.”

“’S a shame though,” Demo mused. “That mistletoe dunnae look so good with that tape coverin’ it up. Maybe you should glue it on instead.” The Demoman could barely keep the mischievous grin off his face.

Scout, already glowing since someone admitted his Casanova powers, didn’t notice. “Well…yeah, I guess. I just didn’t want to wait for it to dry.”

“I can help with that.” It only took a second for Demo to dig around his own supplies, producing a bottle of glue and tossing it to Scout. “That should do it. Fast dryin’ glue. Perfect for your wee plant there.”

Scout looked at the bottle, shrugged, and began taking off his tape. The Engineer looked over at Demo, who gave him a cheery wink. Suspicions confirmed, Engie allowed himself a small chuckle as Scout glued the mistletoe to his forehead.

“Nice,” Scout said, checking himself out in the reflective surface of a dark dispenser screen. “Miss P.’s gunna flip. I’m the most romantic motherfucker this side of Badwater.”

“Aye. Picture perfect,” Demo agreed, and Engie struggled to keep the laughter to himself.

“Thanks man, Scout said merrily, walking out the workshop none the wiser.

* * *

“Not only did I have to teach you how to court girls, but gentlemen now too?” Spy’s voice came from just beyond the kitchen. Scout spun around, the Spy leaning against the kitchen door having somehow escaped his notice. He was annoyingly good at remaining unseen, even though he never actually used his cloak on base.

“What the hell are you talkin’ about?” Scout asked, in a good enough mood that he didn’t simply tell Spy to go to hell.

“You are wearing a branch of mistletoe on your unusually large forehead. Either it is the result of one of Medic’s botanical experiments, or you are seeking a kiss from someone on our all male team.”

“All male and Pyro,” Scout corrected.

Spy arched an eyebrow. “You are attempting to romance the Pyro?”

“No man, you’re not _listenin’,_ ” Scout exasperated. Why did no one on the team think he’d actually been able to convince a girl to go out with him? “Miss Paulin’s comin’ in a little bit. When I open the door for her, _this_ is gunna be the first thing she sees.” Scout jerked both thumbs at his handsome mug.

Spy continued to look on in moderate interest. “Interesting. That is quite a bit better than the last time I checked up on you two.”

“Yeah, well.” Scout rubbed the back of his neck. “She’s a busy woman, you know? We talk on the phone and all that, but now she’s really gunna be here. Perfect time to pull out all the stops, I’m talkin’ maximum charm here.”

Scout grinned as an example. She’d love the little room he’d pulled together, with the roaring fireplace and Smissmas light’s he’d stolen from the rec room. There were also cookies that Pyro had helped him make, and warm eggnog (also stolen.) It was cute as hell, and Pauling would love it. Girls ate that shit up.

“I see. And does Miss Pauling know this is a date, and not just a friendly gathering with her fellow co-worker?”

“Of course she does!” But as soon as the words were out of his mouth, Scout began to doubt himself. “Well..I mean…she said she had a half-day, and I asked if she wanted to come hang out on base…” Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t actually mentioned that it would be just the two of them. “Aw shit…”

“Do not give up hope _mon ami_ ,” Spy said, giving him a pat on the shoulder. “I’m sure as soon as she sees your attire, your intentions will become clear enough.”

“Right.” Scout kicked the toe of his cleat against the wall. He struggled to shrug off the sudden misgivings, knowing he was only on edge since it was such a big deal. But hey, as long as Spy was around, he could slip in a few bits of advice before Pauling showed. “So, uh, Spy? As long as we’re talkin’ about attire, do you think Miss Paulin’s gunna show up dressed nice?”

“Perhaps. It depends on what she is doing before she gets here I imagine. I doubt she would turn out solely for this.”

“’Cause, I mean, I’m not dressed in all that much. I don’t want here to think I’m some sort of slob or something.”

It was true, Scout only dressed in his usual shirt and pants for around the base. He wondered what Pauling would be wearing if she did put something on. Probably not purple, that wasn’t very festive. He hoped that she’d do something green maybe, and they’d match what with Scout’s red shirt. She’d look so good in a little green dress with the white fur linings…

“Scout?” Spy asked. When the younger mercenary continued to stare into space, enamored by visions Pauling in short skirts. Spy waved a hand in front of his face.

“Huh?” Scout blinked. “Oh yeah, like I was sayin’…”

Before he could actually remember what he was talking about before he zoned out, the two of them heard the phone ring from the other room. Scout froze, knowing there would only be one person calling the base right now, and dashed into the kitchen at his very impressive top speed. He practically knocked over Medic, already halfway to the phone, and grabbed the receiver with a clatter.

“Yo, you’ve reached Red Bread customer service, how can I help you?”

“Scout, it’s Pauling.” And goddamn if his heart didn’t grow a few sizes at that.

“Hey Miss P., what up?” he grinned, despite knowing Pauling couldn’t see him. “Still excited for tonight?”

“Actually, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” she replied, and the tone of her voice made Scout feel like he was sinking into quicksand. “It looks like I’m going to be late.”

“Oh. Okay.” Scout tried to keep his voice more chipper than he felt. “Is everythin’ alright over there?”

“Well, you remember that meeting I told you about? Turns out it was another one of the Administrator’s ‘employee reviews’.”

“Employee review? You mean like the ones where she hires a bunch of people to kill you?”

“Yep. That’s the one.”

Just then, Scout heard the distinctive sound of gunfire on the other line. It was followed by “ _shit,_ ” and Miss Pauling firing her own pistol in return.

“Listen Scout, I gotta go. But I’ll be there in a few hours, alright?”

“Sure, sure,” Scout said with all the nonchalance he could muster. “See you then. Kick some ass.”

“Will do.” And with that, she hung up, leaving a dejected Scout still holding up his end of the line.

Spy and Medic ceased their muttered conversation as soon as Scout hung up. Giving Scout a sympathetic smile, Spy walked out of the kitchen. Probably because he thought the runner was a lost cause. Medic looked at Scout with curiosity.

“Scout. Why do you have mistletoe glued to your forehead?”

“You two were gossipin’ in that corner the whole time and he didn’t tell you?” Scout grumbled. He was getting real tired of having to explain himself to every asswipe that walked up.

Medic looked at the phone. “I assume it has to do with Miss Pauling?”

“You guess right, doc.”

“Well, so long as you aren’t trying to kiss _me_.”

“Nah man. I have standards.”

What was even the point of wearing it now? If Pauling wouldn’t be coming for another few hours, he might as well just take the stupid thing off. But, when he tried to yank the branch off, it wouldn’t go. He tried again with a bit more force, but the glue held, only succeeding to yank painfully at Scout’s forehead.

“Are you having trouble Scout?” Medic asked, still watching his display with concern.

“Yeah I’m havin’ trouble, this freakin’ thing won’t come off!”

If he pulled any harder, he was at risk of destroying the plant. Which was so _not_ happening; he only had one of these things after all. Medic walked over and grabbed him by the face, ignoring his heightened complaints of _ow, ow, watch it buddy!_. Medic titled his head to see it better.

“Of course it is not going to come off. You have put it on here with industrial strength glue.”

“ _What??_ ” It was _fast drying_ glue not- “Ooooh that sonuvabtich is going to pay.” Scout tugged all the more helplessness at the mistletoe.

“Interesting,” Medic mused. “But yes, it looks like you won’t be able to remove this unless you have the proper solvent. Or, I could cut out the middle man and remove that pesky patch of skin.”

“Ah, no way man!” Scout finally pushed the Medic off of him.

“It would only be a small area-”

“Thanks but no thanks.” Scout turned his attention to the hall. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have an ass to go kick.”

* * *

The freaking Demoman was probably hiding from him. Scout thought about Demo and Engie giggling away when he’d walked out the door, completely trusting that his friends would never do anything bad to him. Sure, they were the type of friends that he sometimes stole scrumpy bottles from and replaced them with those worms-in-a-can that jumped out at you when you open them, but that wasn’t nearly as bad as _this_.

Scout stomped into the laboratory, only to find it empty. He was just standing in the middle of the hallway, running over all the places he could find the Demoman, when he felt a tug at his sleeve.

“Hmm Skmmp. Rnn hudda hhrrr mm sppprrhudda?”

Pyro could be nearly as silent as Spy when it came to sneaking up on people, despite the thick suit and heavy breathing that followed them wherever they went. That, combined with Scout’s air headedness, meant the runner was often caught off guard.

“Ah!” he jumped, before realizing it was just his friend. “Jesus man, don’t sneak up on me.”

“Srrhhuda.” They shrugged. “Hudda hudda hhrrr mm sppprrhudda?” they asked again.

Right, the Smissmas specials. Scout and Pyro watched them together every year, and it probably would be starting soon. Scout shook his head.

“Sorry man, I can’t today. Miss Paulin’s going to be comin’, and before that I have to beat up Demo…”

“Hrrnn?” Pyro managed to look absolutely dejected, quite a feat considering their minimum amount of face.

“Aw c’mon, don’t give me that. They’ll still be on later tonight, right? I’ll come watch ‘em with you then.”

Pyro didn’t respond, too upset from being blown off. Scout watch them shuffle off down the hall, and tried to suppress his guilt. This was an important day, dammit! Why couldn’t any of his friends treat it like that?

Scout spent a long time trying to find the Demoman to no avail. Before long, he was about ready to give up, antsy as the time until Miss Pauling arrived drew closer. In all honesty, it came down less to wanting revenge, and more looking for someone to work his frustrations out on.

Scout must have been on his third pass past the kitchen when he heard the phone ring again. His heart jumped into his throat, and his body jumped towards the phone.

“Yo, Red Bread customer-”

“Scout, it’s me,” Pauling interrupted before he could finish his spiel.

Scout leaned against the counter, casually holding the phone and looking the most suave guy in the world just in case anyone happened to peek into the kitchen.

“Oh hey. _How’s The Good the Bad and the Ugly_ goin’?”

“Uh…”

A helicopter’s blades could be heard on the other end. There may have been a woman screaming.

“Not well.”

Scout’s stomach fell again.

“I’m sorry Scout,” Miss Pauling continued, a bit louder to cover up the sound of screaming. “It looks like I’m not going to be getting there any time soon.” There was an edge to her voice, possibly from disappointment or just stress from getting shot at all day.

“Alright, no, totally cool. You do you. You just come by whenever, okay?”

“Thanks for being understanding,” Pauling said with relief.

“No problem Miss P.. Just don’t get dead, alright?”

“Scout. Please. I’m a professional.”

“Right, right. I know that.”

Their goodbyes were brief, and Scout was once again left holding the receiver while the dial tone sounder. He put down the phone with a sigh.

* * *

More walking about base with the stupid mistletoe stuck to his stupid forehead. At least Pauling was still coming, that was enough to look forward to. But the fire had died down, and the cookies were mostly gone, Pyro having come by sand swiped a couple at one point. Scout just wanted to kick something.

His mood didn’t improve when he walked into the rec room and found most of the mercenaries playing a game of cards. Everyone had a sweater on, enjoying their last day of work together before furlough. Smissmas break would start after their last battle tomorrow, and the mercenaries wouldn’t see each other for a week. The feel-good brotherhood of it all made Scout sick.

“Hey,” he interrupted. “What are you fellas up to?”

“Cards,” Sniper said, raising his hand helpfully.

The other mercs turned around, and Scout remembered with embarrassment he still had the mistletoe stuck to his head.

“Aw,” Heavy mocked. “Has little Scout come to give us all goodnight kisses?”

Soldier and Sniper laughed uproariously, and, to Scout’s annoyance, he spotted the Demoman sitting smugly next to them.

“It’s not even night yet asshole,” Scout grumbled.

“Is that so?” Heavy mused. To Scout’s growing misery, he glanced at the clock and saw that it was already eight. Heavy raised an eyebrow. “So then why _does_ Scout kisses?”

“It’s not for you, moron!” Scout practically shouted, but Soldier and Sniper just laughed harder. “And it’s _especially_ not for you cyclops, you back stabbing bastard.” Scout jabbed his finger in Demo’s direction. “I can’t believe I trusted you! Did you think for a minute that this night might actually be important to me? And now she won’t even show up.”

Scout dropped his hand, ideas of tearing the mickey out of co-worker not longer that appealing. Demo at least had the decency to look abashed.

“I wasnae tryin’ tae make you mad, laddie,” he explained. “You were just bein’ a right pillock is all, makin’ a mess and bein’ a general pain. All I did was poke a little fun.”

“Yeah, well.” Scout’s shoulder’s slouched. “I’m glad you had fun then.”

Before Demo could formulate a reply, the phone rang from the kitchen. Despite himself, Scout found his spirits rising. He rushed out of the room.

“’Scuse me, lads,” Demo said as he pushed himself from table. “I’ll just be a minute.”

“Leaving during battle is considered surrender, maggot!” Soldier spouted, but Demo ignored him and followed Scout out

Scout didn’t even get to finish saying “yo” before Miss Pauling cut him off.

“I don’t think it’s going to work out this time,” she admitted.

“But-”

“I’m done now but…it’s just so late. I think I ended up in El Salvador. It’d take at least another few hours to get back there.”

Scout dropped into a chair, his heart falling out through the bottom of his stomach. “I…I get it.”

“I’m sorry Scout.”

“No, no, don’t be sorry. ‘S not your fault.” He rubbed his hand against his face, having forgot about the mistletoe still stuck there. The feeling at his fingertips only saddened him more. “But…we’ll see each other gain some time, right?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know when my next day off will be, even if something catastrophic doesn’t happen. But keep in touch, okay? It’s always good to hear your voice.”

Pauling sounded dead tired, and Scout didn’t have the heart to pressure her. He managed a smile. “Of course. How could I stay away from you?”

Miss Pauling laughed, and they chatted for a bit longer before hanging up at the same time. Scout stared at the phone for a while, no thoughts going on in his head besides self-pity.

Demo cleared his throat. “I’m sorry things dinnae work out, Scout.”

“Yeah.” Scout dragged himself away from the phone. “Whatever.”

Demo put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him from leaving. “No, really I am. I dinnae know you were so hung up on this.” He looked away, embarrassed. “It wouldnae have been a problem until Paulin’ left anyways. The mistletoe, I mean. That’s when you would have tried tae take it off.”

Demo had a point, but Scout wasn’t in the mood for accepting apologies. He made a small grunt, but Demo still wouldn’t let him try to push past.

“Here, let me help you get it off at the very least.”

Knowing he wouldn’t get rid of Demo until there was some sort of resolution, Scout sighed. He followed Demo back to the lab, watching with dulled interest as the demolitions expert searched around in his supplies. Finally, he found the solvent, and motioned Scout to sit on a wooden stool that was stained with chemical burns. A rag gently dabbed at his forehead, applying the stuff.

“So, what made you change from wantin’ to ruin my day to bein’ all knight in shinin’ armor?”

Demo frowned, but didn’t make any half-assed excuses. “Well, when you came in all shoutin’ at us, you sounded real upset. And not just your normal prissy upset that you get when you think someone moved your bat or somethin’, but like…” He made a general motion with his free hand.

“A’ course I’m upset!” Scout might have stood, but Demo’s hands locked his head in place. “This night was supposed to be a thing! Like a real thing between me an’ Miss P.. Right now…she doesn’t even take me seriously. I wanted to show her I could be like a real guy to her, you know?”

“As opposed to a fake, cardboard cutout of a guy?” Demo joked gently.

“Shut up, you know what I mean.” Despite himself, Scout felt a smile tug at his the corner of his mouth.

Demo had been the only one who actually hadn’t been an ass to Scout in the end, everyone else either ignoring him or making fun. The Demoman had at least apologized. Eventually. And even thought he had wasted practically the whole day before furlough, Scout was still heading home to be with his family soon, a thought that lightened his mood somewhat. The holiday wasn’t an entire loss; he closed his eyes, and tried to make himself enjoy what time was left. Demo’s fingers gently prodding him in face actually didn’t feel so bad.

“I’m goin’ tae start pullin’ now,” Demo warned. “Might hurt a little.”

“Hey, I’ve gotten both my arms blown off at the same time, I can handle some glue burn.”

Despite his tough words, Scout did wince as the mistletoe was finally pulled away. He opened his eyes to see Demo holding the accursed thing, wonky-shaped and covered in dried adhesive.

When Demo tried to hand it back, Scout just shook his head. “Nah man, you keep it. That thing was more trouble than it’s worth.”

“You sure? Might still be able to a kiss out of it.” Demo waved the branch over his own head and wiggled his eyebrows.

Scout rolled his eyes, but, to the Demoman’s surprise, tilted foreword and kissed him on the cheek. When he leaned back, Scout couldn’t help but laugh at Demo’s look of utter bewilderment.

“Why you lookin’ at me like that?” Scout chuckled. “You’re the one who asked for it.”

“I-I know that…” Demo rubbed at his cheek with barely contained embarrassment. “I just dinnae think you’d take me up on the offer.”

Scout laughed harder, and got to his feet. He stretched and said, “well, glad that chapter of my life is over. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some Smissmas specials to watch. Unless you want to come with?”

Demo looked up, switching from rubbing his cheek to rubbing his neck. “I dunno. I was kinda in the middle o’ a card game…”

“Aw come on, you can play cards with the guys whenever. When’s the next time you can watch bad claymation sing musical numbers with Pyro an’ I while eatin’ too many cookies?”

That couldn’t have been phrased better for making the Demoman grin. He rose to his feet, following Scout out the door. The lab was left empty for the night, with only a lone piece of forgotten mistletoe sitting on the table, it’s purpose fulfilled.


End file.
